How to Disappear Completely
by okaycomputer
Summary: Derek barked out a short, bitter laugh. “Casey, you may have forgotten, but YOU are the one that basically called me an incestuous freak in front of the entire school!”
1. One

**I own nothing, of course.**

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Derek Venturi splashed cold water across his face as he studied his blurry reflection in the dirty mirror before him. Bracing his hands on the cool surface of the tiny bathroom sink, he leaned forward, bringing all the features of his face into an uncomfortably sharp focus. A painfully sharp focus. Ignoring the sallow bags of skin under his eyes, the two-day stubble smeared across his chin and cheeks, the cracking dryness of his lips, he focused only on the murky, muddy and muddled depths of his own eyes. He breathed out a long, slow breath, akin to a sigh but not quite, and stared into his own reflection, into his own eyes, as if he could find all the answers there. Answers to questions like, how the hell did he get here?

Shaking his head, to clear his thoughts and shake off the last remnants of wishful thinking that clung to the stringy strands of his hair, he turned from the depressing bathroom mirror and sauntered into the cracked living area of his shithole apartment in the southeast side of Washington, DC. That's right. Not Toronto, not New York, not Chicago. He had picked DC because he figured, as the most unromantic of American cities, it was the last place he'd ever run into her. But of course, that didn't work.

Little Miss Fucking Perfect, in the flesh. Soft, supple flesh…he closed his eyes and sucked in a big breath of stale air, trying to stay focused.

They hadn't spoken; they had barely even acknowledged each other.

It had been a typical Thursday night for Derek. He had strolled into work right on time (yes, that's right, on time. He was actually a surprisingly prompt person these days), clocked in, and settled in for another night of listening to people's problems and doling out remedies—of the alcoholic variety. The bar was on the nice side of town, and the clientele erred more on the side of yuppie twentysomethings, rather than the unsavory characters one might find near his apartment. It paid enough and he could usually get away with enough free drinks to keep himself comfortably numb.

So he hadn't thought anything of it—hell, he barely even noticed it—when a well-dressed man and woman about his age strolled up the bar. The guy (blonde hair, green polo shirt, haughty and aloof) ordered a vodka and tonic for himself and an apple martini for his lady friend. Derek mixed up the drinks while simultaneously continuing a debate about hockey versus baseball with a fellow (dark hair, grey button-down, a little older than most of the patrons) who was already a little drunk when Derek started his shift (straight bourbons all night).

He paused in his conversation to hand off the drinks to the prick and his ladyfriend, and collect the money. He slid the V&T across the counter to the guy, but being the gentleman that he was (don't laugh. A lot can change in nine years), he handed the woman (chocolate hair, pale pink sweater, and, oddly enough, Casey) her martini. And proceeded to stare.

His first thought was that she was here to ruin his life, again. But then he realized that was all but impossible, seeing as how he hadn't spoken to any of their mutual acquaintances (including best friends, exes, family…) since he left after graduation eight years ago. No one knew where he was these days. Hell, Casey McDonald probably didn't even remember him (he knew that wasn't true, but he thought it anyways).

So he was absolutely floored to see her here, out of all cities in the world, out of all the bars in the city, out of all the nights and times of the week. Just my goddamn luck, he thought.

But, being Derek Venturi, he recovered quickly. Aside from an unmistakable widening of her eyes, Casey gave no indication that she knew him before hurriedly focusing her gaze towards her (probably expensive, high-heeled) shoes. So Derek simply returned his attention to the loser she was with. "Twenty bucks," he said casually, willing his voice not to crack or shake or fail him. And it didn't. Because what Derek wants, Derek gets. Kind of.

The pair turned, disappearing back into the crowd of the bar. At one point, Casey caved and turned around, getting one last look at Derek. She gave him a kind of half-smile, an attempt at friendliness. Derek returned it with a cold, indifferent stare before turning away, back to his work. Back to his carefully constructed life without Casey McDonald.

That, of course, didn't exactly work. He had the next three days off, but instead of his typical routine (various forms of debauchery punctuated by the occasional sports game or workout), he sat in his apartment alone, in the dark, drinking. And thinking. About Casey McDonald, and how she ruined his life the first time around. Just like she was going to do again. Fucking Casey.

Xxx Eights Years Earlier… xxx

"Der-EK!" Casey screeched as she slammed shut the front door and stomped up the stairs. It was the middle of their senior year of high school, and by some miracle of God, Casey and Derek actually sort of got along more often than not. Sure, they still fought like cats and dogs, but it was more good-natured and less hostile. They were almost friends. But Derek (being Derek) still liked to prank her occasionally, when the opportunity presented itself.

This time was no different, although the prank was rather harmless if you asked him. They had been late that morning, thanks to Derek, and Casey had a presentation first period. So, she had been in such a rush to get her books and get to class, that she didn't even notice she had left her locker slightly ajar. But Derek noticed.

He knew that she wouldn't be back to her locker until after lunch. He also knew that she was staying late after school today to do some keener thing or another. So, deciding first period calculus (don't ask, he didn't know how THAT happened) would be alright without him, he headed down to the gym, to see his old buddy at the supply closet.

About a half hour later, Casey had a locker full of ping-pong balls, and Derek was high-tailing it for the parking lot, deciding he didn't want to chance facing Casey's wrath during the school day. And he was never one to pass up an excuse to skip school. Although it was sad he was going to miss her getting showered in ping-pong balls. Oh well, he was sure he would get a play-by-play recap by everyone later.

So when he heard Casey stomping towards his room that afternoon, he grinned broadly. With their new dynamic, he figured she would yell at him for a few minutes, and then tell him EXACTLY what had happened, and somewhere in the middle realize just how funny it actually was. And all would be forgiven. After all, it was a totally harmless prank, right?

But one look at Casey's face as she stormed through his door made him reconsider. She looked PISSED. He wiped the grin off his face and gulped. Maybe he should have stuck around at school.

"You might like to know, _brother dear_, that your little prank today almost KILLED ME!" she screamed, getting right up in his face. Derek held his breath, trying to keep his cool, and raised an eyebrow questioningly. Casey took that as her cue to continue—not that she necessarily needed one, she would have continued regardless.

"I accidentally STEPPED on one of your stupid PING PONG BALLS and almost cracked my head on the FLOOR," she yelled, emphasizing certain words for additional impact.

Derek actually felt the color drain from his face. He never wanted her to get hurt. It was just a dumb prank. Casey didn't seem to notice this, however, as she continued with her rant.

"Luckily Noel was with me and he caught me so I didn't SMASH MY HEAD AND DIE!" she yelled. Derek swore her face was starting to turn a little purple.

"Case, I'm sorry, you know I didn't mean—" he started, but she cut him off. Apparently there was more.

"AND THEN, Mrs. Parnell came around the corner, and decided to give ME a detention for the mess! Even though it wasn't my fault! Noel tried to get me out of it by taking the blame for it, but then she just gave him a detention, too. So now we BOTH have detention. AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT," she fumed. And before Derek could even react, she turned on her heel and stormed out of his room. Their shared wall shook a little as she slammed her own door.

Derek sat on his bed for a few minutes, stunned. She almost got hurt? _Noel_ helped her? She got a detention? The old Derek might have been delighted, but the new, slightly more mature Derek actually felt bad. He was also fuming at the idea of Noel laying his hands on her. Not that he would ever tell anyone. He couldn't have anyone knowing he was some kind of incestuous freak. Because that what they would all think, if they knew he was attracted to his step-sister.

He quickly shook off those thoughts, however, and got off his bed, opened his door, and walked out into the hall, intending to go to Casey's room and apologize. But Casey was in the hall too, on her way to his room? The bathroom? The latter seemed more likely. At any rate, they stopped, coming face to face with each other. He was immediately reminded of an old Western style show down. Casey crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him.

"Move," was all she said. He took a step towards her.

"No," he replied, staring down into her blue eyes unflinchingly. He crossed his arms in an imitation of her. "Not until you let me apologize."

"I don't care about your stupid apology," she spat. "I just want to go shower and forget today happened," she added, and stepped to the right to try and go around him. Derek countered her movements, continuing to block the way.

"Come on, Casey," he pleaded. "Don't let things go back to how they were," he said, trying to reason with her. Her stance, and her expression, remained unchanged. She was royally pissed.

"Fine," he spat back, not wanting to sacrifice any more of his dignity. "You can just spend all your time with Noel then," he shot venomously.

Casey's eyes flashed angrily, and she uncrossed her arms, putting her hands on her hips. She took another step towards him. "What, Derek, are you…jealous?" she taunted, sneering a little on the last word.

His breath hitched in his throat. She was so close. It would be so easy to close to the gap between their lips. He started to lean forward. He could feel her breath on his mouth. They were looking at each other through half-lidded eyes, and Derek thought to himself "_this is it_. _Take that Noel."_ But then he hesitated. Thinking about Noel. And all the other kids at school. And how it would ruin everything for her, and for him. His entire reputation would be in the trash. Kissing his stepsister would undoubtedly ruin his life.

So instead of kissing her, he went for the typical Derek route instead.

"Jealous?" he breathed against her lips. "Why would I ever be jealous," he continued. He pulled back from her just a little, looked her in the eyes. "That would be incest, Space Case. That's disgusting, even for you," he said coolly. Hurt flashed across her face, and suddenly he was reconsidering his decision. Suddenly he didn't really care about the kids at school. But it was too late, because she had already disappeared back into her room. He had lost her.

The next day at school was hellish. It wasn't a huge school, so he typically saw her in the halls a lot anyways, but today it seemed like she was _everywhere_. Whenever he saw her, she would look at a friend, look at the wall, look at her shoes, look anywhere but at him. It was making him crazy. He couldn't do this. He couldn't stand acting like he despised her, acting like she revolted him.

So at the end of the day, he sucked up his courage and walked up to her as she was getting her things from her locker. He stood patiently behind her, waiting for her to finish. Finally she stood up, closed her locker, and turned around to face him.

"What do you want, Derek?" she asked in a voice devoid of emotion.

Derek said nothing, instead he shouldered his bag and did his best to ignore the small crowd of people milling around them. Then he grabbed her face, and crashed his lips into hers.

And for a minute, everything was perfect. It was the most clichéd moment of his life—it was as if everything had stopped.

But just as she had started to respond, she stopped. And put her hands on his chest, and pushed him away. He stumbled back slightly, confused. More than a little hurt.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" she shouted. By now everyone had stopped to stare. They were creating quite the spectacle. "That's called incest, you fucking sicko," she continued. He was shocked by her swearing, by her behavior altogether. Had he read her wrong last night? Apparently.

Glaring at him as if he was the devil himself, Casey made a big show of wiping off her mouth with her hand. "You disgust me," she spat, and pushed her way out of the crowd, and disappeared down the hall. Dazed, Derek simply stared after her. He found himself leaning against the lockers for support, the cold metal pressing into his back. As she disappeared down the hallway, he slowly sank to the ground. He just stared emptily in front of him. His eyes were completely vacant.

The crowd began to disperse.

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**This will probably be a three shot, if it goes as planned. But who knows what'll happen...  
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	2. Two

**Still don't own it.**

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Needless to say, nothing was the same after that.

Derek didn't go home immediately after school that day. Instead, he got in his car and just drove aimlessly. For hours. Not the smartest idea, considering the Prince was beyond being on its last legs, but Derek didn't exactly care about practicality.

Strangely enough, no one called wondering where he was. He figured Casey fed them some story to explain his absence…or, they just didn't care.

Eventually, as the moon was starting to rise into the night sky, Derek sucked it up and headed back to the house. As he pulled into the driveway, he hoped everyone would be in their respective rooms, so he wouldn't have to face their curious looks. Opening the door as quietly as possible, he was greeted by Edwin and Lizzie watching a movie, his dad and Nora sitting in the kitchen talking quietly, and Casey and Marti nowhere to be found. Edwin (who had been sitting in his chair) quickly scrambled onto the couch, almost doing a face plant onto the floor in the process. Derek didn't even look at him. George and Nora looked up from their conversation, Nora's eyebrows knitted together in obvious concern, but Derek just walked up to his room in silence. Pushing open the door to his room, he fell onto his bed like a corpse. Stared at the ceiling, tried to make sense of the day. Failed.

Turning his head to the side after awhile to check the time, he felt something cold and metal under his cheek. He didn't even have to look to know what it was. It was the charm he had gotten her for her charm bracelet, just this past winter. A simple, silver little letter "A." He had thought it the perfect gift for his favorite grade grubber, and it was unquestionably one of the only genuine gifts he had ever given her.

He fell asleep like that, and woke up the next morning with a perfect imprint of the charm on his cheek.

Derek didn't go to school the next day. He didn't go to school a lot after that day. His grades (which he had only just brought up to an acceptable level), started to slip again, soon getting lower than they had even been before. He lost his hockey scholarship to the University of Toronto. He existed (barely) on the fringe of the social world, an alarming contrast to his previous reputation. No one talked to him anymore (or was it that he didn't talk to them?). He didn't really care.

The family was alarmed by the strange silence that had fallen between Casey and Derek, but no one asked. Edwin and Lizzie were loathe to upset the current balance, and George and Nora were sort of afraid to find out. Marti, being Marti, had of course asked repeatedly at first, but soon gave up. She was old enough to know when to leave something alone.

After an eternity of this tense, awkward existence, graduation finally rolled around. Casey was the valedictorian, of course, and gave a speech that was probably too long and too boring. Derek couldn't be entirely sure, as he didn't pay attention. He hadn't wanted to walk at graduation at all, but his mother all but threatened his life if he didn't. After his second semester performance that year, it was a minor miracle he had graduated at all. So he went, and he shook hands with Principle Lassiter, and plastered 

on a fake smile for the photographer as he accepted the empty folder with the school's name and emblem on the front. He almost forgot to move his tassel over, but quickly flicked it over when he caught sight of Marti's beaming face in the sea of people. A genuine smile graced his face briefly, as he remembered a few years prior at one of his older cousins' graduation, trying to explain the ritual to his little sister.

The ceremony was over shortly after that, and everyone joyfully tossed their hats into the air, yelling excitedly and hugging each other. Derek just took his off, and held it in his hands. It seemed kind of unreal. He followed Alex Vegaras, the kid who came before him in the alphabet, out of the arena and into the lobby, making a beeline for the small cluster of faculty members holding the actual diplomas.

He was half afraid they had found some reason not to give him his.

Fate had a cruel sense of irony, as Paul Creepy, Casey's guidance counselor, was the one who had his diploma. The man gave him a strange look as he handed over the piece of paper, and Derek wondered what all Casey had said about him over the years. He especially wondered if she had told him about that last fight. He opened his mouth to say something (to ask? To say 'thanks'?), but quickly closed it again, not trusting himself. He grabbed the ridiculously important, trivial little document, and hurried away.

Nora and Abby quickly cornered him for some pictures, and he obliged silently, smiling when told to. He though the torture was over after the sixth pose with Marti and Edwin, but then Nora hesitantly asked him and Casey to get together for a picture.

"Just one," she added quickly. Derek shrugged indifferently, and sidled over to Casey, standing as close to her as possible without actually touching her. He was honestly kind of surprised that she didn't object, but she didn't, so they stood in stony silence waiting for the flash so they could go back to ignoring each other's existence. But Derek couldn't resist stealing a glance at his stepsister. She had taken the flimsy white graduation robe off, and had it draped over her left wrist. Her left hand grasped her right wrist, and her right hand held her diploma, safe inside the royal blue folder. Her hair was down and slightly curling, flowing out angelically from the white grad cap that was perched perfectly on her head. Her dress was simple and white, with a large royal blue tie that matched the color of the folders and the boys' gowns. She looked perfect. He wasn't surprised.

And of course, this moment was the exact one that Nora captured on film. Casey, staring vacantly at the camera, a fake smile on her lips. Derek, staring reverently and sadly at her, no smile (fake or real).

That was—to be dramatic and cliché—the last time they ever saw Derek Venturi. He had driven himself to the hockey arena (Casey had caught a ride with Emily), since they had to be there an hour before the ceremony actually started. So after that picture was snapped, he made a beeline for the Prince and drove away. No one had noticed when he dragged two huge suitcases out to the car the night before (or if they had, they hadn't said anything). He left the Prince in the airport parking lot, royal blue cap and gown shoved carelessly into the trunk, shoved his diploma in his backpack ,and began lugging his suitcases to the check-in counter.

He had been in Washington ever since.

Xxx Back in the Present… xxX

A knock on the door startled Derek out of his painful reverie. For one crazy instant, he thought Casey had found him. Had come after him. As he cracked open the door and peered out passed the chain, however, he was brought back to reality. Undoing the chain, he opened the door to find Priscilla, the older black woman who was his landlord.

"Rent's late, boy," was all she said, staring at him expectantly and trying to fish a piece of food out of her teeth with her tongue.

Derek ran a hand through his (even messier than usual) hair. He had forgotten the rent was due yesterday.

"Sorry," he sighed. "I've got to deposit my paycheck, I'll get it to you tomorrow, I swear."

Priscilla gave him a skeptical, cockeyed look and studied him intently.

"You bettah," she said after a long moment. Turning to leave, she stopped and looked back at him. "An' clean yoself up, you look like you dead," she added, before waddling over to the stairwell.

Closing the door, Derek decided maybe a shower would do him some good. He stood under the beating, lukewarm water for close to an hour. He stepped out of the shower and again surveyed himself in the mirror. He looked slightly better, and felt immensely better. Pulling a can of shaving cream out of the medicine cabinet, he got to work on cleaning up his face.

He was just finishing when there was another knock on the door. "_Probably Priscilla again, or Adrian_," he thought to himself. Making sure his towel was secure (he didn't want to give anyone a free show), he opened the door without checking who it was first.

And almost had a heart attack.

Apparently God thought he was pretty funny on this dreary Sunday. Because standing in front of him was none other than Casey. He literally thought his heart had stopped. Feeling like a giant cliché, he stood immobilized in his doorway, staring at her. He figured any second now she would disappear, like a mirage. Or maybe her countenance would fade into that of Adrian, the 23 year old who lived down the hall—the closest thing he had to a friend these days. But none of these things happened. Casey McDonald really was standing at his door.

After approximately a century of staring silently at each other, Casey reached forward and rubbed her thumb along his left cheekbone.

"You missed a spot," she said softly, showing him the smear of shaving cream she now had on her thumb. Awkwardly, she wiped it off on his towel, around his hip. Finally, he found his voice.

"Casey," he said simply.

"Derek," she replied, not missing a beat.

"Wha--. How--. Um…would you like to come in?" he stammered, cringing at how childlike he sounded. He stepped aside to allow her to walk through the doorway. He tried not to notice as she looked around. He tried not to imagine the criticisms that were probably running through her head right now. Before he could tell her to have a seat anywhere, she perched herself delicately on the end of his little couch. It was probably the nicest piece of furniture he owned (it had been left behind by the people who had lived in the apartment before him).

Silently, he put on a pot of coffee before retreating to his bedroom (he wasn't sure if the builders had intended it to be a bedroom, or just a large closet, but it served his purposes well enough) to put on some clothes. This wasn't exactly a conversation he wanted to have in the nude. Luckily he had just done laundry, and quickly pulled on his favorite pair of jeans and an olive green sweater. Toweling off his hair, he stared at his dresser, trying to think. After a few minutes he gave up, and walked back into the main room. Casey had barely moved. She sat so still on the couch, looking out the window, he almost wanted to poke her and make sure she was real (he wouldn't say she was statuesque, though. She would probably interpret that as him calling her fat).

The coffee machine beeped suddenly, and the noise caused Casey to turn her head and catch Derek staring at her. He flushed, and all but ran over to the kitchenette to get the coffee. He only had one clean cup, so he started washing one that was already in sink.

"Cream and sugar?" he asked Casey, without looking at her.

"You know how I like it," she responded coolly. She had returned her gaze to the window. Derek failed to see what was so interesting, it wasn't much of a view. All you could see was the roof of the building next to his, and beyond that, a patch of grass that was commonly referred to as "the park." It was muddy from the rain, and from the abuse it had taken from neighborhood kids playing baseball on it.

Once he was done cleaning the mug, he poured them both full of coffee, adding two sugars and a generous dollop of cream to Casey's. He set hers on the coffee table (a slab of fiberglass he found at a construction site down the street propped up on blocks of wood, but close enough) and cupped his between his hands as he sat down on the recliner (yes, _the_ recliner). The air continued to be weighted down by the uncomfortable silence between them.

"How the hell did you find me?" he finally blurted, at the same time she said, "how have you been?"

They laughed tensely. "You first," he said.

"I suppose that would make sense," she replied, nervously twisting a strand of hair around her finger.

"Running into you on Thursday night was a total accident, believe it or not. But once I knew you were here, I had to find you so I went back to Mie N Yu on Friday night but you weren't there so I asked the 

guy who was working and after a little pleading on my part he told me where you live," she explained hurriedly, barely taking a breath.

Derek couldn't help but smile, both at Casey and at the image of Pete, the bartender who was working that night, haggling with Casey over his address. The awkward New Yorker (yeah, Derek figured that way why he moved to DC…) probably LOVED the attention from Casey.

She took the smile as a good sign, and visibly relaxed. They were still far from being comfortable around each other, but every little bit helped. Settling back into the couch a little, Casey took a long sip from her coffee and smiled a little.

Derek knew she was now waiting for him to tell her how exactly he winded up here, to explain away the last eight years, but he wasn't quite ready for that.

"So, what brings you to DC?" he asked her, holding his coffee up to his lips but not taking a sip. He subconsciously held his breath as he waited for her answer. Casey gave him a look, but seemed to understand that he wasn't ready to share his story just yet.

"I was offered a job with _The Washington Post_," she explained. "Their readership has been steadily declining for the past several years, so they're trying to bring in a lot of 'young, promising talent' in hopes of getting in touch with younger readers. Or something." She sighed tiredly, and Derek wondered momentarily what she had been doing for a living before this. "I'm down here for some meetings with editors and other staff writers, to decide if I want to take it."

Again, Derek smiled. Of course Casey would be offered a job with _The Washington Post_. She had probably been working for _The New York Times_ or the_ Toronto Star_ or the _Chicago Tribune_. He wondered if she was going to take the job. Opening his mouth to ask, he suddenly remembered something.

"What about that guy you were with, boyfriend?" he found himself asking instead. He immediately winced, unsure how Casey would react (or, even scarier, respond).

"What? Oh, you mean Alan?" she asked, unfazed. She laughed a little. "No, he's another person they are trying to hire, I met him at a meeting Thursday morning. It turns out he's from Toronto too so we decided to go out for drinks and chat," she explained. "He knows the city a lot better than I do, so he offered to show me around a little," she added, biting her lip slightly and looking at her shoes(seemed to be a habit of hers). Suddenly she looked up again. "I'm not seeing anyone," she said, looking Derek right in the eyes.

(Gulp. What did _that_ mean?)

"Oh," was all Derek managed to say. Momentarily he recovered. "So…are you gonna take the job?" he asked, remembering his earlier thought.

Casey shook her head slowly. "I'm not sure. I wasn't going to initially, but now I think I might change my mind."

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to let his face fall. "_I guess she liked that Alan guy a lot,"_ he thought sadly. Unable to speak for fear of losing his control, he just nodded his head thoughtfully.

There was another long silence. Derek noticed that both of their coffee cups were now empty, and quickly jumped up.

"More coffee?" he asked, as he rushed over to the kitchen. With his back to Casey, he missed the frown that crossed her pretty features.

"Sure," she replied slowly, after a minute. By the time Derek sat back down (this time on the couch next to her, though neither of them consciously noticed this), she had rearranged her features back into a pleasant expression.

"So, your turn," she said casually, turning her body and leaning back into the arm of the couch in order to face him.

"There isn't a whole lot to say," he said, staring into his coffee cup as if he was reading his words out of it. "I came to DC right after graduation, and I've been working ever since. I worked as a waiter at Sequoia, down on the waterfront, for awhile. After about a year and a half, I had some extra money saved up and I started taking night classes at UDC. Then when I was 22 I started bartending at Mie N Yu and taking classes during the day. I finished undergrad last year, and I'm hoping to get a better place soon, maybe a real job." Finished, he finally looked up at her. Casey had been watching him intently, and meeting her eyes at last, he just shrugged. "Nothing exciting."

Casey didn't say anything, didn't react in any way. Unnerved by this, Derek began gulping down his coffee. They stayed like that for a long time. Derek quickly finished his coffee, but Casey still didn't speak. Not in the mood for a staring game, he started to stand up to head back to the kitchen, even though he knew there wasn't any more coffee left. Putting a hand on his thigh to stop him, Casey pushed down, forcing him to sit back down.

Heart beating rapidly, Derek couldn't bring himself to look at his (still beautiful) stepsister. Gently, Casey grabbed his chin and turned his head to face her. Still holding his face, she looked straight into his eyes, with one of the most intense gazes he had ever seen.

"We need to talk," she said softly. After a breath, she dropped her hand back into her lap. Derek's gaze remained fixed on her.

"We just did," he replied. Derek was pretty sure if his heart started beating much faster, it would fly into another dimension. And he would die.

Casey gave him a Look. "You know what I mean," she said sternly.

Derek swallowed heavily.

(Oh boy. This was exactly what he had been afraid of.)

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**Okay, so I hate long author's notes as much as the next person, but I have a bunch of things to say.**

**First off, thanks so much for all your reviews!! They mean so much to me. Thanks a bunch to all you silent subscribers too, I'm flattered you like my writing enough to subscribe. And of course all the favorite author/story alerts I got! Wasn't expecting that. :) **

**Next order of business, I know they are both INCREDIBLY out of character, but I mean, they are twenty six, and there was a whole lot of shit (pardon my language) that happened between them that hasn't been addressed at ALL in almost nine years. So that alters their behavior. **

**Third, you've probably noticed by now that dialogue isn't exactly my strong point. Apologizes, and just bear with me. **

**And lastly, The Washington Post, Toronto Star, Chicago Tribune, and New York Times are all real newspapers. Which I don't own. Sequoia is also a real restaurant in Georgetown, and Mie N Yu is a real bar there as well. Needless to say I don't own them either. **


	3. Three

**The words are mine but the characters are not. Obviously.**

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The silence was deafening.

Derek focused mainly on his breathing, for fear he would pass out if he didn't remember to inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale. He looked at Casey until he couldn't any longer, and looked out the window. Then back at Casey. Then at the carpet. Then back at Casey. Then at the wall.

Eventually he was out of places to look. Except at Casey. Everything seemed to come back to Casey.

The longer he looked into her incredible blue eyes, the weaker his resolve became. He couldn't do this, he eventually decided.

"Derek…"Casey said quietly, trying to get the conversation started.

"Why do we have to do this?" Derek interrupted bluntly, trying to hide his growing panic at the idea of talking about his _Feelings_. With a capital 'f.' "We've gone what, nine years without doing this? Why change a good thing," he continued nervously. He was such a fucking chicken.

An indescribable look crept onto Casey's face, and she looked away from him, choosing instead to stare straight at the wall. "I wouldn't exactly call it a 'good thing,'" she said in a strained voice.

It was only then that Derek really noticed how world-weary she looked. She was still beautiful, of course, but Casey McDonald had the distinct appearance of being tired of living. He wondered what exactly the past decade had been like for her. About to ask, his thoughts were cut off as Casey continued to speak.

"God, Derek, do you have any idea what you've done to the family? Did you not stop to think about what disappearing off the face of the planet would do to your family? To _our_ family?" she said harshly. "What about Marti, Derek?" she asked sadly. "That poor little girl has only just started to get back to normal after her Smerek left her."

"I've talked to Marti," he said quietly. He said it so quietly he wasn't sure if she would hear him, but she did. Her head snapped back to face him.

"What?" she asked in a voice just as quiet.

"When she turned sixteen. I sent her a letter, to let her know I was alright, that I still cared about her. To explain, as much as I could," he told her, his voice breaking a little. He knew a lousy letter or two couldn't fix things, but his conscious had gotten to him, at least in regards to his utter abandonment of Marti. "She's the one who had my recliner sent to me," he added with the faintest trace of a smile. Good old Smarti.

Casey softened a little at this, but suddenly her demeanor was even icier than before.

"And what about _me_, Derek? Didn't you care about what you were doing to me?" she continued in a low, bitter voice. The sharp edges of her words cut into him, but instead of making him remorseful, they served only to incense him.

"What I was doing to _you?_" he asked incredulously, red-hot anger rising up inside of him. "Are you fucking _kidding_ me, Casey? Maybe you've forgotten but you're the one that ruined MY life, not the other way around," he spat, cursing his foolish heart for thinking she had wanted to apologize for what she had done all those years ago.

"ME? You're the one that started it all, Derek," Casey shot back, her own rage bubbling up inside of her. She didn't know why she had expected anything different from him.

Derek barked out a short, bitter laugh. "Casey, you may have forgotten, but YOU are the one that basically called me an incestuous freak in front of the entire school!" He was so mad he was basically shouting by the end of the sentence.

"Only after you called me one in the hallway the night before," Casey replied with equal volume. "God, this was such a mistake," she yelled, half to herself as she stood up from the couch. Turning back to face the still-seated Derek, she brought the volume of her voice down just a little bit. "You know, I did actually come here to apologize. To try and fix things. But I didn't think you would actually put ALL the blame on me. I guess it was stupid of me to think you had bothered to grow up at all. Heaven forbid THE Derek Venturi would take even the slightest bit of responsibility, for once," she seethed, venom dripping from her words and pooling onto the floor. Snatching her purse off the table (and almost knocking her coffee cup off of it in the process), she whirled around and stomped (rather childishly) to the door. Opening it, she turned back one last time. "Goodbye, Derek," she said forcefully, before slamming the door shut behind her.

Derek sat, frozen, for exactly a minute and forty-seven seconds. After that minute and forty-seven seconds, he miraculously came back to life and sprang up, running out of his apartment and down the three flights of the stairs (apparently Casey moved quickly when she was angry) and out to the street below. Looking frantically left and right, he spotted Casey about half a block away, walking (in the wrong direction) to the metro.

Running like he never had before, he soon caught up with the brunette. Grabbing her arm roughly, he spun her around to face him.

"The metro's the other direction," he said, panting to catch his breath. With a look that could melt titanium, Casey wrenched her arm out of his grasp and started stalking off in the correct direction.

"God damnit," Derek muttered under his breath, and took a few long strides to close the distance between them. "Casey, please," he said, trying to pour all the remorse he could into the two simple words. Apparently it worked (a little bit), because she stopped. Turning around to face him, she crossed her arms over her chest, and he couldn't help but be reminded of that stupid day so many years ago that had started all this.

"I'm sorry, Case, I really am. I'm sorry for jerking you around, I'm sorry for running away from everything, I'm sorry for being an asshole just now. I'm sorry for screwing this whole thing up so 

royally," he said hurriedly, through gasping breaths, trying to get it all out before she had the chance to change her mind and leave.

For a minute, Casey just stared at him with the same cold expression. Then, with a sigh, her look softened and she relaxed her stance slightly.

"I waited for you, you know," she said softly. "After I graduated from U of Toronto, I worked some dead-end job at the _London Free Press_, lived with the family, hoped to God that you would come back so I could fix things. I got job offers from plenty of places, but I was so scared that if I left London, I would lose any chance of ever seeing you again. I came down here for the interview mostly just to make my mom and George happy; I didn't want to take it because even after all this time, I've still held out my foolish hope. That we could still fix this," she explained.

Derek felt like his entire countenance was turning into oatmeal. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought Casey despised him, was revolted by him. But then he remembered something she had said earlier.

"But then you met Alan the Amazing and decided waiting for me wasn't worth it after all, right?" he asked bitterly.

Casey stared at him for a moment, then laughed sadly. "Derek, you are still such an _idiot_. I only started considering taking the job after I found _you_ here," she admonished, as if it should have been obvious.

(And it kind of was. Derek was just blind)

Now it was Derek's turn to stare at Casey (there sure was a lot of that going on today). "But…that day, you said…" he mumbled incoherently, barely able to process all that was currently being thrown at him.

Casey dropped her arms to her sides and took a step towards him. "Derek, I said that because I was scared, and confused…and stupid," she told him honestly. "It was a ridiculous thing for me to do, but can you understand it from my side? One night you act like you're about to kiss me, and then tell me its incest and disgusting, and then the next day—at SCHOOL nonetheless, in front of a ton of people—you really DO kiss me. I had no idea what to think, so I just reacted in the only way I though acceptable."

The regret in her words was palpable, and Derek's heart ached, as he finally began to realize exactly how his actions had affected her back then.

"Jesus, Case, I'm so sorry. I really am. I was such a dumbass." The words tumbled out of Derek's mouth before he even realized he was speaking. "I was scared too. That night, I wanted to kiss you so badly, but I was afraid of what that would mean. So I took the chicken way out, but regretted it as soon as I saw the hurt on your face. I figured kissing you in front of everyone would really prove to you that I didn't mean it, that I wanted to be with you regardless. I guess I really screwed that one up," he finished sheepishly, running a hand through his eternally-messy hair.

And then, of all things, she laughed. It was a light laugh, slightly sad and slightly crazy. Derek laughed too. They laughed because really, what else was there to do?

As quickly as it had come, the laughter soon died off. In the sudden silence, Derek took the opportunity to really look at Casey. Her hair was slightly messed up from the March wind that had been buffeting them gently this entire time, her cheeks rosy from cold and emotion. In the clear, cool air, all her features seemed that much more defined. It made her just that much more beautiful (if that was even possible). Her endlessly blue eyes shone just a little bit, watering from either the wind or the words that had just been spoken between them (probably both).

"Derek, I…"Casey started, but Derek cut her off.

"Shh," was all he said, as he closed the last of the space between them, lowering his face to hers and gently claiming her lips with his own.

It was just as wonderful as he imagined—probably even more so, in fact. Derek wasn't exactly sure how he had gone this long without kissing her. He wasn't sure how he had ever even kissed anyone else.

And then, as if their story didn't already possess enough clichés, it started to rain. Derek pulled back from Casey and laughed.

"I feel like I'm in _The Notebook,_" he said with a chuckle and the most genuine smile that had graced his face in something like nine years.

"Yeah," was all Casey said as she grinned and pulled him back into another kiss.

They probably would have stood in the rain kissing forever, if not for the car of obnoxious teenagers that drove by, honking and hooting at them as they sped past. Laughing, Casey pressed her face into his shoulder embarrassedly.

Derek kissed the top of her softly. "It is kind of chilly out here, maybe we should go back inside," he said softly.

Pulling back to look him in the eyes, Casey smiled and then grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards the front door of the building.

--

A week later, Casey was fumbling with her keys at the door of the Venturi-McDonald home, while Derek stood behind her, fidgeting nervously.

"Will you relax already," she said exasperatedly. "You're making ME nervous! I promise, they will be nothing short of ecstatic to see you."

Finally, she got the door open, and it swung open to reveal a much-grown-up Lizzie and Edwin sprawled across the living room, watching television. Casey was surprised, having forgotten that they had said they were going to come home for the weekend to welcome her back.

Edwin glanced up briefly to see who had come through the door. "Oh, hey Case," he said casually, returning his attention to the television program. And then froze. Slowly, he turned his head back to the doorway. "Holy shit," was all he said.

Lizzie, having heard Edwin greet her sister, jumped up to go give her a hug. And then stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh. My. God!" she shrieked. Momentarily forgetting her sister, she ran over to Derek and gave him a crushing hug. He stumbled backwards a little, surprised, and awkwardly patted her on the back before giving in and returning the hug.

Nora, having heard the commotion, walked out from the kitchen while drying a plate. "Casey, honey I'm so glad you're—" she stopped in the middle of her sentence and dropped the plate, not even noticing as it shattered on the ground. "George?" she cried after a moment, recovering slightly. "Georgie come here!" she yelled a little louder, slightly hysterical.

George emerged from the basement at the same time that Marti came bounding down the stairs. Both stopped in their tracks when they saw Derek standing awkwardly in the doorway, Lizzie still latched around him like she was afraid he was going to take off again at any moment. George's jaw dropped in disbelief, and Marti just smiled knowingly.

"I told you I brought you guys back a surprise," Casey said lightly.

With that, everyone suddenly came back to life all at once. Marti finished her trek down the stairs and joined Lizzie in her bone-crushing hug. The rest of the family followed soon after. At least five minutes later, everyone started to detach themselves, and then everyone started talking simultaneously.

"Bro! What the hell!" Edwin cried, unable to decide between being indignant about being left and being glad to have Derek back.

"Oh. My. God," Lizzie continued to chant over and over again, still seeming to not really believe that he was actually there.

"Look at you! You're all grown up!" Nora exclaimed, on the edge of tears, while George could do nothing but mutter, "My son. My son has come back!"

And Marti. Good old Marti. All she did was smile and say, "Sup Smerek?" As if nothing had happened.

After the hysteria had finally subsided, Nora was the first one to notice Derek and Casey's entwined hands. Looking between her daughter and her stepson, she raised an eyebrow. Derek grinned sheepishly, and Casey blushed.

"I'm going to go put on a big pot of coffee," Nora announced. "And then, we are all going to have a very long talk," she said. "It seems we have a _lot_ of catching up to do."

Smiling, she walked back into the kitchen.

Still not noticing the broken plate.

Casey looked at Derek, rolling her eyes. With a sigh, she pulled her hand from his and went to go clean up the plate (before someone got hurt). Derek followed her, grinning like a fool.

The rest of the family just watched in stunned silence.

Except Marti. Marti just continued to smile. Knowingly.

(She always had known.)

* * *

**The London Free Press is a real newspaper, and I don't own it. Just in case there was any doubt. **

**Well folks thats all! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope my characterizations of the family aren't TOO out of whack. I did my best. And again, time and extreme circumstances had a major role.**

**I hope the bit with the letter to Marti didn't seem too random. I'll be honest, I mainly only wrote it because I realized that I had put 'the" recliner in Derek's apartment, and it couldnt exactly have gotten there if he really had cut off all contact with everyone like I said in the first chapter. But also because come on, Derek could never completely abandon his Smarti now, could he? **

**Also just in case anyone was wondering, the title of this story is taken from the song "How To Disappear Completely" by Radiohead. I basically listened to it on repeat while I was writing this whole story. I'd say I drew a lot of my inspiration from it--not necessarily the lyrics, but definitely the general sound. **

**(As a last note I just want to say I'm not as obsessed with Radiohead as it probably seems--for anyone who doesn't know, my penname is taken from the name of a Radiohead album. I just really like their words.)**


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